The Dance
by Hikaru Seiya
Summary: Two figures swirled on the dance floor, flowing as thought they were not connected to the earth, but instead were beneath the ocean. SJ challengefic


A/N This was done for an LJ community I joined called 30kisses. It's a very cool place, where you claim a couple and write 30 drabbles about that couple according to 30 themes they have. This is the first, the theme being "look over here." Please, enjoy!

SJSJSJ

She twirled slowly in front of her mirror, watching as her aqua dress danced to the rhythm of her spins. It had taken two weeks, five pounds of coffee and forty cups of blue jell-o from the commissary for Daniel to convince her that she was wearing a dress and not her blues to the "giving-away" ball, but he had done it, and she had agreed against her better judgment. After all, one ball in civvies wouldn't kill her, would it?

The bottom of her dress brushed her calves and she realized she had stopped spinning, a tear perched on the corner of her eye, a dove ready to take flight. She mentally shook herself and smoothed the silk of her dress nervously, glancing at hair, makeup, and jewelry to make sure all was in place, all in the same moment that her doorbell rang. She glanced one last time at the mirror before she left to open the door, an unreadable look upon her ivory face. A smiling Daniel looked her up and down and offered her his arm—he was dressed in an immaculate black suit coat with a matching black bowtie. "Ready, Sam?" he asked genially. Without waiting for her answer, he said, "You look nice, you know." She smiled at him and locked the door to her house and let him lead her down the front path. He had always been a good friend to her, an emotional rock when she needed it, and she had never been more appreciative of his genial nature than now. If he hadn't prodded her to go to this ball, she would probably have stayed home and gotten smashed for the third night in a row.

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He fidgeted, annoyed, and opened his mouth. "But sir—"

"No," General Hammond told him curtly. "You are here, you are staying here, and you are not leaving until I specifically tell you that you may go home." The subject of the General's scolding tried to pout without looking like he was, although, on second thought, it was a bad idea.

"Jack," Hammond said sternly, "You are starting to act like my granddaughters. If you don't stop it now, I will put you in time-out, see if I don't." The last half of the bald man's small lecture was completely ignored in favor of a swirl of blue-green that swirled in the door, perched on the arm of one Daniel Jackson.

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_Come on, Jack_, Daniel thought, _look over here._ _You know you want to._ Daniel hid a triumphant smile as he saw the older man's gaze sweep over to them and stay there. He tugged gently on Sam's arm and leaned over to her ear. "How about we go see the General, eh? It's been a long time since we've seen him." Daniel was careful not to specify which general, and was rewarded when Sam's eyes darted to Jack and she blushed.

She mumbled something incoherent and moved forward hesitantly. He followed her, a doting look on his face. He had forgotten how little-sister she could be sometimes; he truly missed his team's dynamics. If he couldn't get SG-1 back together, at very least he could do one last thing for his team.

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General Hammond bestowed his first truly happy smile of the evening upon the daughter of one of his closest friends. "Welcome, Sam," he said, extending a hand, "It's so nice to see you again." She delicately touched his hand and he lifted it up and kissed it—an old-fashioned custom, but one that she obviously appreciated.

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He couldn't believe it. He was jealous—jealous of a man older than he, kissing the _hand_ of a woman he was supposed to have forgotten a year and a half ago when the presence of the Stargate was revealed to the world. Now, at the ball celebrating the opening of the Intergalactic Travel Agency, she was _supposed_ to be nothing more than her old teammate. Unfortunately, his heart wasn't cooperating. Again.

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Sam sighed. Two hours, she had been at this ridiculous ball, and nothing to say for it except a heart that was broken again. She headed over to the bar with intent to get a drink or two (or get smashed, her conscience said) but took a detour when she saw Daniel arguing heatedly with someone that she couldn't see. The archaeologist apparently won, the triumphant look clear upon his face, and he motioned to the hidden person. That was all she saw as she turned around to greet Sergeant Siler, who conveniently materialized not four feet away from her.

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His brain still couldn't absorb the fact that he was actually doing what he swore he would never do. Damn Danny and his damn blackmail.

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Sam bid Sergeant Siler farewell as she turned around, a vague smile on her face, only to almost collide into one General Jack O'Neill. He caught her gently by the arms to stop her and then let go as if she had the plague. Her former CO then proceeded to bow rather stiffly and murmur, "Would the lovely Miss Carter be so inclined as to oblige me a dance?"

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Damn. He must've miscalculated, judging from the deer-in-the-headlights look she sported, although, he had to admit, it wasn't an entirely unflattering look for her. Of course, in his opinion, Sam Carter possessed no look that was unflattering. His train of thought was abruptly crashed when she grinned shyly, if widely, and blushed delicately.

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"It," she managed to say through her smile, "would be a great pleasure, Jack." She placed a slight emphasis on his name to remind him that she was no longer in the employ of the military as a colonel, but rather as a civilian. The band struck up a slow song (just in time, she thought, but then caught sight of a bald head near aforementioned band and was forced to realize that everyone was in on this plot) and he gently placed his hand on her hip as she settled elegant fingers on his shoulder.

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Time slowed, heads turned. Two figures swirled on the dance floor, flowing as thought they were not connected to the earth, but instead were beneath the ocean. They were Romeo and Juliet, fated to die through love, but lived instead, lived to dance on. The song ended, time took its normal route, hands were lifted to clap. Hearts withered, Death called, Fate stepped in. Romeo and his Juliet lived to see another day, there but for the grace of god.


End file.
